Take A Leap Of Faith
by Anasasis.Xenophontis
Summary: Ahren Kass is a young girl with a dark secret. Shes an Assassin. Killing is easy, but falling in love? What is a girl to do?
1. Chapter 1

She forced herself to run. They were closing in on her and she couldn't have them figuring out her identity. Especially when she was supposed to engaged to the powerful Templar family's only heir and, supposedly, the love of her life. The only ones who knew the truth were those in the Brotherhood.

Quickly, she ducked into an alley way, blending perfectly with the shadows. The guards ran past the entrance not even bothering to search the narrow walk way. She smiled, "Men are such idiots." The girl then quietly climbed up the side of the building which she was previously pressed against. Breathing a sigh of relief, the young assassin hoisted herself onto the roof and started jogging southwest. The tiles on the roof clinked softly as she jogged across them in the still light of the full moon. When she reached her destination a few streets away, she silently dove into a large hay stack next to the side of a stable. There was another man there, wearing the old dirty clothes of a thief, waiting silently in the shadows, looking around anxiously for passing guards or archers.

"You're late." he hissed. The young girl, trying desperately to rid herself of the itchy hay, shook violently.

"I know and apologize. Manfred would not-"

"Machen nicht Ausreden. Here," He shoved a large roll of folded papers, tied with a red ribbon, in her hands. "it is your new assignment." The girl nodded understandingly. She didn't know what was written on the papers, however she had an idea. Hoping that her hunch was correct, she tightly clenched the papers to her chest.

"Danke." For the past six months she had been the 'lucky' fiancé of Manfred Duerr and was sick of him. She despised everything about him, his way of thinking, the way he treated women like they were toys, and the way he treated her most of all. She had lost count of the times she has almost slit his throat while he slept.

"Kein Problem." the man said before he turned and dashed off in the opposite direction he was facing. She sighed heavily, making her way to her next, and final, destination, home. She headed north toward the empty market that surrounded the only home she ever knew. Every day, dawn 'til dusk, the market was full of life. Merchants yelling about their beautiful fabrics, hand crafted items, and fresh foods, artists selling magnificent paintings, and crowds of people just willing to spend their money on the so called rare and over priced items. Even though the yelling was annoying at times, it was still home.

Her house was easy to spot in the large, empty market place. It was directly in the center with market stalls surrounding walls that protected it. The family crest, an eagle taking flight off a tree, draped on either side of the entrance gates. The young assassin climbed over the wall and down one of the many trees that her mother had planted in the garden area of the yard. Hoping she would not get noticed she sprinted across the large yard that separated her from her bedroom. Reaching her room with little effort, the girl stripped down into nothing, pulled on an oversized shirt and laid down in-between the soft, silky sheets, drifting off into a death like slumber.

The dream was simple. A normal day, with a normal family, her older brother, Arno, had come back from Italy, her little sister, Ari, was alive and well. It was perfect. They all sat on a large jet black picnic blanket and ate Wursten, Brot, and Käse. They talked about nothing just the simple pleasures that life brought upon them. Smiling, she glanced from her brother to her mother to her father. When she turned to smile at Ari she was no longer there. Confused, she opened her mouth, and tried to ask where Ari disappeared to since she was no where to be found.

No words came out. She touched her throat and frantically looked around the picnic area. A scream echoed through the silence, she frantically searched for the source of the scream. Again she tried to communicate with her family, but when she turned around they were gone as well and replaced with the body of her deceased sister and Manfred hunched over the body. He stood and wiped off a small dagger. A disgusted look was plastered on his hideous face. Angered, she charged for him only to fall face first into the grass.

She was alone again.

Tears streaked her pale face when she felt a hand on her chin. The guiding hand had led her eyes to meet with the face of a young, handsome olive skinned Italian boy. His black hair was tied back, but some escaped the ribbon, framing his face. His golden eyes pierced through hers making the butterflied in her stomach flutter into overdrive. He made no sounds when he opened his lips to speak to the frightened girl.

Why could she not hear him speak? Who was this boy?

Just as she was about to ask who he was, he disappeared.

The young assassin awoke startled and confused. "Ugh, what the hell was up with that dream? I haven't dreamed of Ari in years." she grumbled. Sighing, she threw her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Sighing once more, the girl stood, strolling to the desk opposite of her bed and slipped into her crimson robe. She then picked up the orders that were given to her and began to read them.

It wasn't hard for her to decipher the letter in her hands, she had read so many like it before. The orders were simple: Kill then disappear. Nevertheless, it wasn't always that simple. Guards were all around. Rooftops, in the crowds, and surrounding the target. Escaping would be difficult. Smiling, she read over her targets name once more; Manfred Duerr.


	2. Chapter 2

Manfred Duerr. She smiled once again. Finally, finally she would be rid of the man who made her life miserable. The young girl glanced through the other papers, its content was revolved around the same matter. The guards schedule changes at the different places and times in the castle and her contact within the castle; a stable boy by the name of Syfer Rottwiel. It also explained his background information: where he came from and how he went form there to where he was today. It was a tragic story, though. His mother and father both died from a templar attack in their small village north of Nuremburg, a place called Erlangen. The poor orphaned boy was then taken in by one of the servants and raised as a stable hand. He had longed for the day that justice would be served and he could get vengeance for his parents death.

A knock came from the door, startling the girl. She quickly hid the papers in an empty drawer in her large brown oak desk, hand crafted and imported from somewhere she didn't know. Slamming the drawer shut, she rushed back into her bed throwing her cover over her head in fright. A small click sounded through the silent room telling her the door had been opened. The intruder was silent in closing the door as well, foot steps shortly followed with the boards creaking under the pressure of the mysterious person.

The room was silent once again. Until she heard, "AHHH!" the intruder bellowed in a deep voice, making Ahren scream like a little school girl. She suddenly felt pressure on either side of her as the male violently shook her. She was still screaming when the man tore the cover, revealing the face of her idiotic childhood friend, Konrad Bickel.

"KONRAD! Du Idiot! Hast du Angst mich zu Tode!" Ahren yelled. "What the hell are you doing here anyway? I thought you were in Wipfeld visiting family."

"I was," he smirked. "but I heard, from my little birdie that today is your birthday!"

"Well your little birdie was very accurate." she replied calmly. Their position hadn't changed since he tore the covers from her face, she was lying face up while he straddled her, holding her hands on either side of her head. If anyone had walked in on them that moment, all hell would break loose with accusations that she was an unfaithful, ungrateful whore. Even her parents would believe it, well her mother and step-father. If her real father was still alive…things would be so much better for her. She wouldn't have to lie or pretend to love someone just to get sacred information about the Templars and their plans. She wouldn't have to a lot of things, hell she wouldn't even have to be an assassin. "Now, I must kill you for knowing such valuable information."

"Kill me? I completely forgot why I came here! Who are you?" he joked dramatically, scratching his head, feigning amnesia.

Now with free hands Ahren pushed Konrad off of her, "Oh, stop it." she joked, rolling her eyes. "I won't kill you…yet. Who told you it was my birthday though?"

"Are you serious? I have a terrible memory, hell sometimes I get lost in my own house; okay it's not that bad. But come on, for me to not remember your birthday, I only remember the important stuff." This made Ahren laugh. It was all but true, Konrad had the worst memory. He had no sense of direction, he was always forgetting important dates, he barely made it to his father's re-marriage, and he was always loosing things. He would place it somewhere, and then forget all about it for a week or two, when the person came to collect…oops! It was gone!

Konrad sat up from his position on the floor as Ahren crawled out of bed.

"That hurt." he stated obviously.

"It was supposed to." she deviously replied.

"Well, since you want to play that game, I won't give you your gift." he nonchalantly looked at his hand, inspecting it thoroughly.

"Geschenk?"

"Ja, but you are mean, so I won't give it to you." A small smile played at the corner of his lip. "I guess I'll just have to give it to your mother or another beautiful girl." He stared at Ahren, a full teasing smirk across his face. His dark brown eyes sparkled mischievously as he stood up, ruffling his sandy blond hair. Konrad was a head taller than Ahren, lanky, clumsy and had no build to his body whatsoever. Nevertheless, Ahren still loved him, as a brother, with all her heart. "Well, I guess I'll go wait down stairs for you, so you can get dressed in private."

Ahren nodded, "Okay." she smiled.

The gift was the most beautiful thing she had ever received. It was a Venetian style black butterfly mask with crystal jewels above the eyes and multiple other places. She was speechless.

"I-Ich liebe es…"

"Well, I'm glad you love it so much, it was extremely hard to make." Konrad stated matter-of-factly.

"You made this?!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with belief.

"Of course I did. Only the finest things can touch your delicate skin."

"Oh my, Konrad, you are very talented." an older woman in her early forties chimed in from her spot in the living room door way. She had long blond hair that fell in waves down to the small of her back paired with a voluptuous body and made everyone know it. "I am very sure our little Ahren will find great use of it." She smiled, hiding the true meaning of her words, as Ahren glared daggers at her. No one was to know about her extra-curricular activities and here she was flaunting the knowledge like a deranged, mad woman! Unfortunately, she had the largest mouth in all of Nuremburg, her favorite hobby was to gossip to all the ladies in town, whether it be good or bad.

However, she wasn't always like the way she was now, before her first husband died she was a respectable woman who wouldn't dare be caught in anything scandalous or remotely questionable. She would always dress like a mother should, as well, nothing too revealing or anything like it. Now, she would wear clothing that basically made her look like rich prostitute. It disgusted her to think that her second husband has made her turn into this _thing_ in her mother skin, but of course she couldn't do anything about it. Her mother always said he made her happy. How anyone like her step-father could make anyone remotely happy was beyond her comprehension. He was always yelling and throwing tantrums over minor, trivial things, like the way the hand maid folded his clothing. Plus if Ahren did try to pull something, it would mean big trouble for the Brotherhood.

Nevertheless, it didn't mean that she wouldn't try. She was leaving for Italy in two days, "A bloodbath before I left wouldn't be so bad, would it?" she thought.


	3. Chapter 3

"Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße!" the young assassin panted breathlessly. "Was zum Teufel machst du da? Run!" She yanked the hand currently clasped to her right one, almost dragging the elder boy down the small alley ways. "Horses! Where are the horses?!" she asked, adrenaline pumping through her veins. The young girl was now trying to escape from a horribly executed assassination plan. Someone had failed in their assignment and either lost a 'notice' or was overheard talking about one. Either way, the Templars knew when she was coming and how she would kill her victim. She didn't even know if she could trust her contact, Syfer. He seemed truthful and humble, but just as her father had always told her, never trust by ones appearance.

They kept running, hand in hand, Ahren leading the way to the edge of the city. The horses were said to be waiting there for them, supplies already strapped on tight.

"Can't we slow down?" gasped Syfer.

"No time." she snapped. "We are almost there, just beyond that building." I pointed to a large, four story building that towered above the rest, "It's only a quarter mile away! We can make it." She tried to encourage him, they had to keep going or else they would be hung for treason. As she ran, dragging her accomplice behind her, she thought about her next plan of action. Flee to a neighboring town? No, too obvious. France? Out of the question. France was a templar nation, it would be as if she had personally signed her death sentence. Italy was the next closest thing. Thinking hard, she vaguely remembered something her brother had written in one of his many letters, '_Monteriggioni, it is a sacred place, full of mysterious wonders, people, and stories. I was told that the very first is hidden somewhere deep beneath the villages surface. However, this boy…_'

"Monteriggioni." Ahren huffed.

"WAS?" questioned Syfer, gasping for breath.

"It is where we are going-I'm going there at least. You are welcome to join me if you choose to do so." Syfer nodded in mutual agreement, trembling, from the fear of being with a killer or from the lack of oxygen, Ahren couldn't tell. Keeping to the darkened alley ways they continued, Syfer tripping over himself the entire time. Soon they rounded a corner, stopping dead in their tracks. Guards were surrounding the southern gate, blocking all chance of an exit. "Okay," Ahren started, "we can either jump the twenty foot wall and risk minor or major injuries," Syfer shook his head furiously, still trying to catch his breath. "or we can fight the guards and risk immediate death. Which do you prefer?"

"J-jump…" he breathed.

"Woher wusste ich," she sighed knowingly. "just wait here for my signal or something." He nodded mutely, closely watching her every move.

Sticking to the shadows, she inched her way along the protecting wall of the city, thinking of an easy, but silent way to kill the five or so guards standing in her way. From her position she could easily take out two or three with one shot of her bow, if they sounded the alarm, things would be ruined and their escape wouldn't be possible. "_I have to try, though._" she thought. Making a hasty decision she pulled her bow and two arrows out of her leather quiver, loaded the arrows on the bow, and released, sending the arrow flying to their target before grabbing another arrow. One after another, they hit all of the targets, one through the heart via rib cage, three in the leg, and one in the neck.

"Lass uns gehen, Syfer!" she screamed running around the guards and out of the city. The horses were there waiting for them by the stables right outside of the gates, just like her master had promised. One was a soft chestnut brown mare, while the other mare was jet black, head to hoof. She chose the chestnut horse, running and jumping on her like a vault.

"HYAH!" Ahren shouted, digging her heals into the horses sides. The mare instantly flared to life, before galloping away.

The journey to Monteriggioni was long and painful. Sitting on a horse and walking for hours a day then sleeping on the cold, hard, rock littered ground wasn't the most pleasant thing Ahren wanted to do. Syfer headed for Spain soon after meeting a bubbly young female by the name of Rosa letting Ahren fend for herself. She continuously cursed him.

She had been traveling for around nine days before she reached the gates of Monteriggioni. How beautiful the small town looked. The large walls that surrounded the town had to be at least twenty to thirty feet, Ahren guessed, and the watch towers even bigger! Occasionally she could vaguely see men peak their heads out, spying on the horizon for attackers or strange things. Tying her horse, which she officially named Sabre, to one of the two wooden posts next to another dark brown and white spotted stallion. She placed three gold coins on the table, nodded to the man sitting in the stool reading over what looked like maps or something of that nature and walked through the tunnel that led into the small town.

It was absolutely beautiful, a little run down in a few spots, but still beautiful. The architecture, the people, the small shops that lined either side of the main walk way, Ahren was amazed by it all. The structure of the buildings were so different from her home town, these new places were all made of stone. She noticed the art merchant, haggling with his buyer over an exquisite painting of a house next to a river with a large mountain as its setting. On the opposite side sat a fabric store next to very noisy blacksmith arguing loudly with one of his customers. Pacing over to the fabric counter, she gazed at the luxurious types of fabric along with their beautiful colors.

"How many times am I going to have to fix this!?" the blacksmith bellowed, his cheeks red with anger.

"This will be the last time! Ti prometto, amico mio." The young man pleaded.

"You promised me the last seven times you wouldn't do anything reckless again! Idiota." The blacksmith sighed heavily, running his hands through his barely existent hair. Scratching his chin he stated, "If you ruin my armor one more time, I'm going to charge you ten times the regular price."

"Grazie, amico mio, I won't let you down!"

"I'm not your friend! Idiota!" he called after the retreating male. Ahren followed him with her eyes, watching as he made his way up to a villa at the top of a small man-made hill.

"Ahren?" someone asked. Turning sharply, Ahren smiled brightly upon recognizing who was addressing her. "Oh, Ahren, I knew that was you." Arno exclaimed, dropping his things, rushing over to crush his beloved little sister in a bear hug.

"Let go Arno…can't breathe…"she gasped.

"Es tut mir leid Schwester." He laughed apologetically. "I've just missed you so much! It's been, what, four years since our last meeting?"

"Zu lange, Bruder, zu lange." replied Ahren. "I've missed you too. How have you been? You haven't written in a few months." She looked at him curiously eyeing his facial features for any signs of lying. He was a handsome man, twenty-six years of age, with dark brown hair and baby blue eyes almost identical to their mother. Unlike Ahren, he was darker and much, much taller, towering over Ahrens five foot four height. He had broad shoulders just like his father and well-toned muscles from back breaking construction labor in Germany as well as here in Italy.

"Truth be told," he started, "I'm building this place from the ground up. There is a man, Mario, he asked me for help in reconstructing some of the buildings around the here so it can become more profitable. He is giving me a free room and three meals a day, how could I say no?" Arno shrugged his shoulders like he had no other option but to work for this mysterious man named Mario. "I've just been busy since I started working on the place that I hadn't had time, Kannst du mir verzeihen?"

Ahren giggled softly at her poor elder brother, "Of course I can forgive you. But," she added, "only if you let me stay." Arno smiled showing his pearl white teeth.

"Come, I'll introduce you to Mario and the others." stated Arno.


	4. Chapter 4

The villa was awful. Ahren was amazed by the volume of the large house and the fact that it was still inhabitable, however, she couldn't get over the state it was in. She could see it had two stories with a small third story attic or spare room centered at the top. From afar it looked quite nice but up close, not so much. The exterior was all stone with vines growing up walls; most of the windows were boarded up as well, making it look even worse.

"Home, sweet, home." Arno sighed. "It isn't much, considering all the damage that has been done over the years, but once I get it fixed up it will be marvelous!"

"So what happened, to this place, I mean?"

"Not enough funds to repair from an attack on the city years ago, so I'm told. Who would have them after excavating and building all of this." He swept his arm wide around him, bringing attention to all of the homes shops and the large wall surrounding the village. "There is also the tomb of Altair and escape routes that took a lot of money, too."

"Altair…seriously? His tomb is here!" Ahren exclaimed excitedly. When she was little her father had told her stories of a great and noble leader who defended his people bravely and with honor. He told her his name was Altair and that she was going to be just like him when she grew older; a great and noble leader of the Brotherhood.

"Well it is more like a memorial tomb his body is not here, just his armor. But enough of this talk, tell me, how have you been?"

Ahren, reluctantly having to give up on Altair for the moment, retold some of her more exciting adventures, that didn't include her being a delivery girl or messenger, to her elder brother. He hung on every word she told, excitement in his eyes. He was always fascinated by the stories she could tell at a moments' notice, whether they be true or false, he didn't care.

"-and then, right as he was about to tackle me, I leapt over him and he crashed into a cart of manure!" Ahren giggled. Arno burst into a fit of laughter, clutching his torso as he doubled over.

"That's my sister!" he exclaimed pinching her cheeks. "I can't believe you've had so many things happen to you! And here I thought they just make you a messenger!"

"Well, truth be told, I was a messenger. But I was the best damn messenger they ever saw!" Ahren smiled. "Now, time for you. How have you been, how is it here?"

"It's nice, a bit lonesome, but I manage to have some fun here and there."

They walked further into the villa; he showed her all the beautiful paintings and books that Mario's nephew, Ezio, had collected over his journey to different cities in Italia. Ahren noticed a recurring theme in painting as well, power and seduction.

"Pieces of Eden, nein?" the brother inquired.

"Ja, it makes me wonder how many before us knew of its' secrets. Looking at all these paintings, I would say a lot."

"The strange thing, I don't think he even knows about the Pieces of Eden."

"How could he not know that?" Ahren was flabbergasted. Every assassin knew about the Pieces of Eden! Hell it was one of the first things they were taught. Every Piece was special and had different powers. The apples and staves to control the minds of men, the skulls for communication, the shrouds and Ankh for healing and resurrection, plus many others that have not yet been discovered or uncovered from hiding.

"Apparently, from what I've heard, his father did not want him to become an assassin. He just wanted his sons to take on the family business. So they were never taught. His uncle has been teaching him the ropes, though, sending him on missions, easy ones first, of course."

"How could he have not thought that his son wouldn't be dragged into this?"

"I don't know. A lot has happened to him. It's quite depressing. His father and two brothers died at the hands of the Templars, hanged in a town square in front of his very eyes. His mother is now mute from shock and won't speak for anyone or anything. Just sits and stares out the window every day. His sister has been helping me out with the finances, but I still hear her cry more often than not." He said. Gloomily, he too, stared out of one of the many windows in the room. She placed her hand on his back, rubbing it in circular motions.

"That sounds like a tragic story no one should have to endure."

"Leider ist es etwas, das wir alle zu kämpfen haben. We are assassins after all." Arno stated, smiling sadly. They continued to gaze out at the openness the outside had to offer. Ahren noted the hills and fields that seemed to enclose the guarded city. The people down below passed as if no harm could come to them and no evil had entered into their life, to ruin their chance at happiness. They were normal people with normal problems. She pitied herself. She was raised in this life, had to face the hardship of losing her father at such a young age. Jealousy washed over her as she glanced at the smiling faces of an elder gentleman and younger male. They looked so happy practicing their fighting techniques in the small court in front of the villa. The younger made a swing for the elder but failed as the elder disarmed him and knocked him to the ground.

"Knocked him flat on his ass again." Arno chuckled. "That's them though, Mario and Ezio, want to go say hello?"

"HEY! EZIO, MARIO!" Arno yelled, dragging the young girl behind him. "I'd like you to meet someone."

"Ah, and who is this bella donna? A girlfriend perhaps?" Mario asked. He kissed the back of her hand as Arno laughed.

"No, she is not. Can't you tell by looking at us? She is my sister!"

"Si, si. Now that you mention it, you do look somewhat alike! The same eyes, except yours are much more beautiful." He winked making her blush. Although she had heard those words multiple times, his Italian accent made her knees week.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Ahren smiled. He smiled back a bright, wide smile from ear to ear.

"The pleasure is all mine, bella donna. My name is Mario. Here, come meet my nephew, Ezio." He encouraged dragging the defenseless assassin towards the sparing court. She was taken aback by how powerful and fast Mario still was.

"Er is wirklich stark." She whispered to Arno while Mario was wresting Ezio in the court.

"He was an incredible assassin, still is even, he helps out a lot around here or at least tries to when he can. They are always competing with each other, though." He chuckles observing the two men.

"After what happened with Ezios' family Mario became everything for them."

Ezio finally managed to disarm his uncle, though Ahren could see it was because the elder Auditore was getting tired. The two tired men exited the courtyard sheathing their weapons and walked toward the siblings sitting on a nearby bench.

"That was a wonderful match you had there Ezio." Arno praised.

"No, fammi vincere," he stated gloomily. _So he noticed it, too._ Ahren thought. "but enough of that who is this." Ezio walked in front of Ahren staring deep into her eyes, giving her a sense of what the French called déjà vu. His golden eyes reminded her of the ones from her dream before she fled.

"Have we met before?" he asked suddenly.


End file.
